


Ossified

by Steadfxst



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Drunken Flirting, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steadfxst/pseuds/Steadfxst
Summary: Tumblr Prompt:A Lucy/Flynn fic based of this quote, "Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you" fromAnne of Green Gables.





	Ossified

Lucy swivels in her seat a bit, but no one in the restaurant pays her any mind. All the rest of them are drunk too. It’s 1928, and America is going to be drunk and prosperous forever. 

Lucy giggles and some of her drink sloshes out of her glass. Flynn smiles in surprise.

“You, my girl, are drunk.”

He takes a sip of his own beverage.

“What makes you think that?” she asks.

Lucy loses her balance—while still sitting down—and braces a hand on Flynn’s thigh to catch herself.

“Maybe because that’s the second time you’ve done that,” he says, gently removing her hand and placing it on the table. “Once is an accident; twice is deliberate.”

“What does that make thrice?” she asks.

“An invitation.”

Lucy’s brows go up, and she snorts.

“Oh, yes, Flynn. I can’t keep my feelings from you any longer! I'm afraid I'm _scandalously_ in love with you.”

She makes herself laugh, and Flynn shakes his head in an indulgent way.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.”

He takes her glass away from her with no protest from her. With her prop gone, she surveys the room and the people around her. She sighs.

“God.”

“What?” Flynn asks, half expecting trouble.

“They don’t know what’s coming. They have no idea this is all going to go away.”

Flynn frowns.

“Perhaps not.”

Tears fill her eyes.

“We can’t save them,” she laments.

Flynn slides closer to her in the booth and puts an arm around her. A concerned waitress gives them a questioning look, but he waves her off.

“It’s not your fault,” he says.

“I want to go home,” she says into his suit jacket.

He gently strokes her hair.

“I know,” he says. What was “home” for them now anyway? “I’m here.”


End file.
